ParrisBlues24: It won't be too dark... just a little haha
Chapter Two
The prophecy
The alarm started to go off and Hermione opened one eye, reaching for the alarm clock on her bedside table. She pressed the button to turn it off and heard a growl from Draco.
"Fucking Muggle clock, I hate it."
She turned around, finding his face only inches away. She smiled and brushed his blond fringes away from his forehead with her fingers. He opened his eyes, blinking.
Hermione felt her heart race at the sight of those grey irises gazing at her with such intensity. He didn't look at anyone like that...only at her, and she still got nervous when he did.
A crooked smile appeared on Draco's lips as he noticed it and he moved a hand up to her neck, tangling his fingers in her curls and pulling her closer until he could kiss her.
"Good morning," Hermione said as she pulled away, smiling.
"Good morning, love," Draco murmured, yawning and sitting up in bed.
Suddenly, he heard a gasp and looked at Hermione, who had gone pale.
"What's wrong?"
"Yesterday... we didn't do the charm before..."
Draco frowned and stood up, walking out into the corridor. Ten seconds later, he came back in with a vial in his hand.
"It's alright, there was still one left. Drink it, I'll brew some more tonight."
Hermione took the vial full of clear liquid and gulped it down.
"We forget about it a lot lately, Draco," she said, setting the empty bottle on her bedside table and getting to her feet.
He was looking for clothes in the wardrobe.
"Whatever, that's what the potion's for," he said, shrugging.
"What if one day we forget about the potion too? We are so young, and I don't..."
Draco turned around pouting, but a smirk curved his lips when he saw Hermione in her purple pyjamas and with her hair dishevelled.
"Don't worry, I won't let it happen again. I'll take care of the charm from now on."
Hermione nodded and he left the room, heading to the bathroom down the corridor to take a shower.
She picked out clothes for the day and went into her parents' room, the only room that was still exactly the same. Draco never went in there and refused to use what was once the Granger's bathroom, so it had become her personal washroom.
Twenty minutes later she came downstairs, wearing a grey dress and carrying a coat in her hand. Draco was in the kitchen, waiting for her, sitting at the table with a cup of tea in his hands. She sat down in the other chair and smiled at the breakfast he had prepared.
"It's getting a bit late, you'll have to eat quickly," Draco warned her, having already finished.
Hermione made a face and finished the toast as quickly as she could. Meanwhile, Draco filled Crookshanks' bowl with food, and when the cat came over to thank him, he scratched his chin.
She drank the last of her tea and with a flick of her wand she enchanted all the dishes to clean themselves. Hermione gently stroked her pet's back and went out into the living room. Draco was already waiting for her by the fireplace.
"He can't stand Ron, he tolerates Harry... but he's adored you from the beginning, I just don't understand it," she commented, raising an eyebrow and picking up a handful of Floo Powder.
"Your cat is smart, he knows I'm much better than those two idiots," Draco replied with a grin.
Hermione pushed him gently with her shoulder and threw the powder into the fireplace, shouting her destiny. The green flames engulfed her and soon after she found herself in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, surrounded by dozens of wizards walking in all directions.
Even though she had been working there for a little over a year, it still impressed her. There were golden symbols and figures moving on the ceiling, so bright that their reflections could be seen on the dark wooden floor.
She looked to the right and sighed at the sight of the new fountain. It had been installed when the war ended, destroying the previous one. It was now a sculpture with over thirty human figures holding their wands. Among them, faces like Professor Mcgonagall's and Luna Lovegood's could be seen, and in front of them all, three figures were looking straight ahead, holding hands. Hermione wrinkled her nose, she hated seeing herself carved in stone... though the image of Ron and Harry holding her hands as the three of them smiled was a nice reminder of the end of so many years of fighting Voldemort.
Two seconds later, Draco emerged from the same fireplace and they both headed for the door that led to the lifts.
They stepped into one where there was a young man in a black robe, and the wrought golden grilles slammed shut. Draco grabbed one of the golden ropes hanging from the ceiling and Hermione did the same. The lift was thrown backwards at full speed and she had to grab onto his shoulder to avoid hitting one of the walls.
She heard a giggle and Draco's right arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him and steadying her. Hermione looked up at the ceiling, there were four purple memos flying over their heads. The lift went down one floor and stopped.
"Ninth floor, Department of Mysteries," announced a woman's metallic voice.
"Shall I pick you up for lunch later?" Draco asked, leaning over her and looking into her eyes.
She nodded and he gave her a quick kiss as the golden grilles of the lift opened. He stepped out into the central corridor and looked back, winking at her.
Hermione grinned and took a better grip on the ropes. The lift began to ascend very quickly, not stopping at the other floors.
"I don't understand how you can be with someone like him."
Hermione blinked several times and glanced at the man in the lift. She knew him by sight, he was a Muggle-born like her and a couple of years older. He worked in the Magical Maintenance Department and was one of the people in charge of checking and repairing the twenty-five lifts.
"Why do you say that, Wilson?"
"Purebloods disgust me. They're all racists who would like to see us dead," he replied, grimacing and looking away.
She was quiet for a moment, trying to take in what she had just heard.
"That's not true, not everyone is like that. In fact, hardly anyone thinks that way any more, only those in Azkaban."
"They're all the same," Wilson replied, wrinkling his nose.
Hermione was about to speak, but the lift stopped suddenly, announcing that they were already on the first floor. The golden grilles opened and she stepped out. She looked back as they closed again.
"You're very wrong."
Wilson shrugged and the lift shot down, disappearing.
Hermione rubbed her temple and started walking towards the Minister of Magic's office. She opened a mahogany door and entered. At the back was a dark table with a huge window behind it, from which she could see the blue sky. The entire Ministry was hidden underground, but the windows had a spell on them so that it didn't look that way.
She pushed back the swivel chair and sat behind her desk, sighing. It had been raining all over the Ministry the day before and it was depressing to work like that, someone must have complained so they decided to put a sunny morning behind the windows that day.
Hermione shook her head and decided to forget the strange conversation with Wilson. Since the fall of Voldemort, many Muggle-borns had begun to hate purebloods, blaming them for all the murders and tortures that had taken place during the year that the Death Eaters controlled the Ministry.
She pushed her chair over to one of the shelves and pulled out a filing cabinet, she needed to prepare everything regarding the meeting Arthur Weasley was going to have with the Muggle Prime Minister in a week's time. In six months, the Quidditch World Cup, which had been delayed for several years due to the war, was due to start and they needed to prepare everything for the arrival of wizards from all over the world.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Mr. Weasley walked in.
"As early as ever, Hermione," he said by way of greeting, coming up to kiss her cheek.
"Good morning, Arthur. Everything all right?"
"Molly asked me to invite you and your boyfriend to join us for lunch this weekend, it's about time we met him."
"But you already know him," Hermione replied with a nervous giggle.
"Not formally. You're part of this family and I want to check that Draco Malfoy has changed. I won't believe it until I see it, as much as Ron, Harry and Ginny say it's true," he said, smiling.
She nodded.
"Okay, I'll talk it over with Harry. We were going to have lunch with him this Saturday."
"Then come to the Burrow, all of you. The more the merrier," Arthur replied, raising his eyebrows.
After that, he opened the black door to his office and stepped inside, leaving it ajar.
Hermione sighed, thinking of the look on Draco's face when she told him that he was having lunch with all the Weasleys as well as with Harry Potter on Saturday.
She took a pen out of the second drawer and began to write down everything they were to discuss with the Muggle Minister, as well as all the people who would need protection during the days when there were World Cup matches in England.
After passing all the controls on his way out of the lift, Draco walked down the windowless black tiled corridor. The only light came from the torches that were scattered along the wall, they were somewhat strange and their light was white. His eyes lingered for a moment on the stairs leading down to the tenth floor, where the Wizengamot was located.
Draco wrinkled his nose at the memory of his trial, locked in that cage as if he were a murderer while every member of the magical court watched him. He shook his head and opened the only door at the end of the corridor, entering the Department of Mysteries.
He waved to the two guards in the circular hall and made his way to one of the six doors. He placed his left hand on the black wood and, after a few seconds, the door opened on its own. Draco stepped through and closed it again, sighing.
He began to walk among the shelves filled with glass orbs. Most were dust-covered and glowing, though the older ones barely gave off any light anymore. Scattered around the shelves were candles that illuminated everything with a bluish hue, and it was quite cold.
Draco closed his robe tighter and continued walking down the central aisle, ignoring the whispers coming from some of the orbs.
He turned right, at the end of that corridor were two women and one of his best friends, Blaise Zabini. He had also started working in the Department of Mysteries the year before, and for the past seven months they had been meeting every two weeks in the Hall of Prophecy.
"We've been waiting for you," said one of the women, who was in her mid-twenties and had blue eyes.
"I'm only a minute late, Evans," he protested quietly.
"I'm sure it's Granger's fault," said Blaise in a mocking voice.
"Shut up," Draco snarled.
Blaise chuckled and the two women moved away, leaving Draco to approach the shelf. One of the glass orbs, the shiniest of them all, had a label with the following written on it:
Sybill Trelawney
Draco Malfoy
12th October 1998
"Did you find out if anything important happened that day?" Blaise asked, looking at the orb curiously.
Draco clenched his jaw and reached out his left hand, brushing against the small glass. The only people who could touch the prophecies were the subjects of it and the Keeper of the Hall of Prophecies, who was currently Kate Evans, one of the women standing next to him. Anyone else who tried to take them would be afflicted with instant madness.
"I read 'The Daily Prophet' every morning that year, so I've been going through my memories in my father's pensieve... that twelfth of October was the first day I really kissed Hermione, when I snuck into her dorm," he whispered, lifting the orb carefully.
The other three wizards surrounded him and the orb began to glow brighter. The voice of their former Hogwarts professor emerged from the small container, reciting the prophecy they already knew by heart.
Three years after the Dark Lord's defeat, a new evil power will rise... friends will become enemies, whole families will perish at the hands of those they despised so much... and only he can stop the slaughter... he who will give up everything to be with her and who will confront his own family... those who hated each other but will soon fall in love... only them together can stand against the new threat... pureblood and Mudblood, together they can uncover those who want to wipe out what is left of the old families... and prevent a new regime from coming to power... three years later...
The voice trailed off until it faded away. Draco put the orb back in its place and closed his eyes, placing his hand to his neck and tilting his head until his muscles creaked. His professor's prophecy had given him the creeps ever since he'd heard it the day he met Evans, when she'd asked him to accompany her and showed it to him.
"Who decided that this prophecy was about me?" Draco asked, looking at the two women.
"As soon as it became public knowledge that you were dating Hermione Granger, the Unspeakables who had heard it decided, and that's why I wrote your name down. But I didn't think about it again until I saw you, and remembered that there was a prophecy for you around here," Kate replied, arching an eyebrow.
Draco nodded. The first time he'd heard it, it had been him and Kate alone, and that night Hermione had had to wake him up because he was writhing in the middle of a nightmare.
"But it could be any other couple formed by a pureblood and a Muggle-born," added Mary White, the other woman. She was thirty-nine years old and had been working there the longest.
"It's possible, but you two are the only ones who hated each other from an early age. And, if what you said is true, the day this prophecy was made was the day everything started to change, and you fell in love soon after. You acknowledged it yourself, Draco... the dates match. And you stood up to your father and everyone for her... it's clearly talking about you and Granger," Blaise said, scratching his chin with one hand.
Draco frowned.
"I'm not so sure, and we've heard it dozens of times before... but yes, maybe," he admitted through his teeth, snorting.
"It's October and the third anniversary is next year, in May. We still have time to find out what's going to happen and stop the culprits before it's too late," Mary murmured, watching the orb carefully.
"We're still as lost as we were at the beginning. As far as we know, the magical world is at peace and there's no one up to no good," Blaise muttered with a straight face.
"Exactly... as far as we know," Draco said, narrowing his eyes.
He was under the impression that the prophecy was talking about the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight', the twenty-eight pureblooded British families who had never mixed with half-bloods or Muggle-borns. All that stuff about the old families probably referred to them.
"Do you still think it means the pureblood families?" Blaise asked, as if he could read his friend's mind.
Draco nodded.
"The Sacred Twenty-Eight are the oldest families in England... but it could also refer to pureblood families in general. We may all be in danger."
Blaise twisted his lips and looked away, thinking of his siblings. The two women sighed but their faces were calmer, they were half-bloods and therefore had nothing to worry about.
"We'll keep an eye out in case something happens, and we'll meet back here in two weeks to put the ideas we have together. We'll come up with something eventually," Kate said, walking off down one of the corridors.
Mary followed her and the two friends were left alone.
"Do you really think we're in danger? Are they coming for us?" asked Blaise in a worried voice.
"It looks like it, but I have no idea who they are," Draco whispered, turning on his heel and starting to walk down the corridor he had followed to get there.
"Maybe Granger would think of something."
"You know I can't tell her anything... and besides, it would only make her worry. We have to sort this out ourselves," Draco mumbled under his breath.
The two of them went through the shelves in silence, checking the thousands of prophecies. Occasionally they picked up the ones that had gone out completely, fading them with a wave of their wands. Those that had already been fulfilled or had ceased to make sense were extinguished, and any Unspeakable could touch them and make them disappear.